Welcome to The Legend of Zelda: Shades of the Past. We are currently a newly opened RP site that welcomes members of all kinds! Take a look at our guide to see our plot, wanted canons, rank information, and much more! This site is currently in beta mode, meaning that we are giving new systems a try. If they work out then we can exit this mode very quickly. If not, that will take some time, however if anyone does plan on staying and surviving this milestone, there will be numerous awards!

This time with a purpose! He was without a doubt the strongest never of ganonrofs army, he had been declared his champion after battle just a few short hours ago. It was eleven o clock and he had finished all of his maintenance tasks. He had sharpened his weapons, fed his horse, and gotten his newly improved equipment back from the smith. He enjoyed that his shield was as fine as the rest of his armor, and he appreciated the new wavy line on his lance from where the steel had been refilled back on itself. His new piece of special armor was still in the shop, unfortunately.

If he was going to fight the hero of Hyrule, a legendary warrior who could reincarnate and keep generations of combat experience life after life. Then he was going to have to be much more prep paired than he was now. He decided not to wait at all! He would not even sleep until he had made significant progress!

Night zero.

Aberham prepared a set of weights that he found in some dead monsters home. He would be sleeping here tonight, even if it smelled and wasn't quite tall enough for him to stand up all the way in. He closed the windows and stripped off his armor. He left on only a pair of brown pants, even taking off his boots. Their enchantments would only do to make his workout easier.

He kicked away a rug in the living room and layed down on the ground, he took the barbell in both hands and checked the weight. It was two hundred pounds, he knew he could do more but he was looking to improve not max out. He lifted the bar up off of its short little stand and placed it on his light, heavily muscular chest. And he started doing his reps, at first it was easy. How could it not be? But after the first eight it started to wear down on him. His goal was to do one hundred of these without stopping, if he missed even a single one then he would start from the top.

"Nine... Ten.... Eleven..." He groaned, each got tougher and tougher. After twenty he slowed down, and after thirty his body gave out and his chest tingled. He pushed the bar to the side and yelled at his own failure. He then retrieved it, took a deep breath and tried to do it again. He was able to do three more out of sheer effort, but his muscles gave out. For a moment he almost cried out for a spot but realized it would be himself who would get him out of this. With agonizing effort he put it back on the rack. He wasn't in as good shape as he thought....

But he was not done yet, no! He put his helm back on and headed outside, where he had set up a pull up bar. After a few stretches he jumped up, grabbed it in both hands, and pulled himself up all the way to the chin. There was a clink as the metal touched metal, the bar could not move for it was steel and between two buildings. He hefted himself up again and touched his chin, another clang. He would do his strength training at night, he decided, and his cardio and swordplay all day long.

Aberham was able to do quite a few pull ups, again his goal was 100. But eventually his military pace slowed before he was even half way there. Pull up after agonising pull up he slowed down until he was merely hanging from the bar. He refused stubbornly to drop, even though his biceps begged him to do so. After almost two minutes of struggling on the bar his fingers gave out and he fell back on the hard ground.

He kicked himself up and stood shakily on two feet. Breathing deeply, he knew he could not quit, for it was to early. He hopped up again and got as many out as he could before he voluntarily let go. He repeated this process for twenty minutes until both of his arms felt dead. He decided to move onto his legs next.

He got a heavy barrel meant for fish he filled it full of stones and stood on a small dock with a fishing boat in the harbor right next to the comparatively huge ship that he had arrived on this island on, and began to do squats. Every time he did so he always got below parallel, with excellent technique. He held the barrel tilted ever so slightly between his shoulders, he sat down each time like he was tapping his bum on a tiny invisible stool.

He had made sure to fill it with stones until it was significantly heavier than the barbell. Since his legs were much stronger than his arms naturally, all the combat in heavy armor had only helped this process. He was able to do the first ten before any serious strain came his way. It was then that his technique started to falter, but he still would not give up his pace." Twelve...Thirteen... Fourteen..." Hgh said under his breath. Until eventually he got too low to the ground and his legs shook, before giving out. His barrel fell to the ground and his invisible stool broke.

He rubbed his back, particularly the muscles, and massaged his legs for a few seconds beforehand he resumed the position again and got slightly less out before he was forced to quit. Tor the remained per of the hour he tried to do this but get ever farther away from his goal. He could imagine the hero, a little boy, laughing and doing many more squats then him with a heavier barrel. This distraction made him lose balance and fall over this time the barrel shattered and rocks rolled into the water. He kicked off the broken thing into the sea. He had plenty more barrels to work with.

He glanced to the moon, it was getting late. He washed himself down with a wet towel in the bathroom with a bit of soap on it and rinsed his brown hair thoroughly before going to bed. He would wake up before dawn tomorrow morning to continue his training.

Day one.

Aberham was sure he would not be seen here. He was about a mile away from the village and it was still an hour before sunrise. He stood next to a bubbling freshwater pond that looked so clean that he would dirty it by taking a drink. He was not here for a drink however, he stripped off all of his armor, including his helm and undergarments and stepped in.

The water was easily below freezing, twenty degrees hit at the most. It was very hard to fource himself to stay, but he found a place to sit and it became easier. He spent several minutes curled up in a ball trying to conserve body heat. Before he eventually could feel his toes getting numb and he hopped out into a warm towel, he would use this early every morning. It would relax his pains away, and tech him discipline.

The sun rose and he treid off, before putting on all of his clothing and calling his horse back over, whom he had made look the other way. He rode Joey back into town before he was missed.

Next was cardio! He decided that he would run from one side of the beach about a fifth away around the entire island, then he would turn back and run back. He goal was not to finish it within a certain time, but rather to not stop running until he made it back home. He wore his armor, the light burden would allow him to work up a sweat and would prevent things from getting easy.

He took off with long strides, his goal was a hill in the sand that he could just see in the distance. He ran right alongside the water line. Aberham started breathing deeply right away, this would be very difficult. But he persevered. He did not let his long stride slow down. He fell into a rhythm of breathing and running.

He remembered time of when he was a boy, he had spent a lot of time near the beach. The dirt farm was right next to a cliff on the coast. By taking old goat paths to get down he could shirk work with one of his older brothers or go and play with his younger brothers. He remembered how he had shot up like a weed, his legs were so much longer than even his older brothers by the time he was eight. He was quite the race champion, his form had improved somewhat since then but not the smile that naturally came to his face when he felt the wind through his visor.

Once he had made it to the hill he ran up it and peeled back to go run back, but his legs were so tired by that point that he tripped on his own armor and went tumbling down. He eventually slid and slammed his face on a rock, which cracked. He could see stars and his vision was so black that he could see the face of god. But he recovered quickly, he could not push himself up and continue he discovered, his body said no and did not give him the strength. So he lay there for a few minutes with a rock pillow and considered going to sleep. Then he remembered that the day had hardly started and he had much more to do before he was done.

He made his way back to town and ate a well deserved breakfast of raw cocoo eggs and a green discussing vegitable drink that he cut up with his own knife and shook mightily until it became a fluid. It was so good for him it made a passing Iron Knuckle sick to watch.

Next would be very important. Endurance training, this would improve his skill with weapons and his ability to take damage. He took all of his armor off and practiced with eight moblins out in the woods, far from where anyone else could see his face.

He had a rod, and the monsters also had heavy staves of their own. This exercise was simple, he would fend them all off for ten minutes and if they could not knock him on his ass by then then they were done here.

Once Aberham said "Start!" The moglins ran at him, it would be unsportsmanlike to chain tackle him to the ground and kick him until he had more bruising on his ribs than bone. So instead three lead the charge. Aberham had excellent skill with weaponry of all forms, he was quite possibly the best fighter in the three kingdoms. He blocked all of their rapid attacks, moglins were used to using spears and staves is what they practiced with until they got real weapons. They were very good with these oaken sticks.

But Aberham was so much better. After he knocked one of them off balance d hit him hard enough in the face for the others to hear the sound of wood on bone, then while he was still reeling Aberham swept his legs out from under him with his staff and kicked him once before he hit the floor. "What!? Am I all training you!? I brought eight of you out here for a reason, use your numbers to hurt me or I swear I will hit you all with this stick until you pee blood. Now ATTACK!" He yelled that last command so loud that people in the village would be able to hear him.

Boy did the knight sure get the ass kicking he had sacked for. The moglins rushed him all at once and he literally had to beat them back with a stick. He fought well, like any champion of The Lord of darkness would. But eventually somone jumped over their partners and clocked him on the head, right on the same spot that collided with a rock this morning. This brought fresh pain to his entire body and the rest of the monsters hit him with sticks until he collapsed.

Next was numerical training, the idea behind this one was quite simple as well. Aberham was in town for this one. He was among those he could trust so he did not cover his face. He walked into the dirt circle roughly ten meters in diameter. And his opponent came out, a moglin. His foe dashed at him and tried to punch him in the stomach. But Abe was much faster, he gripped him by the arm before his punch could land and gave him a Chinese burn with so much adrenalin pumping power behind it that the pigs skin smoked while Aberhams mits only got a little harder. Then he spun him off his feet while he was still crying out and threw him out of the ring.

Then two moglins came for him, the deal with this exercise was that for every one he had beaten one more would come. He had enough moglins for ten rounds, so that was his goal. These two were much more cautious after they saw what happened to their friend. Aberham took their cowardice as weakness and made them suffer for it. He tucked forward and kicked one in the chest, before the other could get done processing what had happened the knight flipped around on his other foot and kicked him in the head. He dashed forward to the first foe and punched him with both arms. This caused him to go flying out of the ring and into some barrels. He then returned to the other one, kicked him in the crotch and planted a foot on his forehead before sending him out of the ring.

He continued to dominate the battlefield until he took one too many hits in round four and was finished by way of angry fearful mob in round five, his body was really starting to take a beating. But he was not done. Towards the end of the day as the sun was about to set he found an Iron knuckle and ordered him to train with Aberham.

He had picked them because he was the shortest of the other knights that were a part of the army. But his height still rivaled Aberham's own. He had also picked him because he was left handed and fought with a sword. They would practice with very light armor on, Aberham wore only his chest peice, hist helm,his gauntlets and his boots. Leaving him without most of his defense. Aberham was significantly better at swordplay than his opponent.

But the point of this was not to defeat the gerudo before him but to have him teach him how to counter a left handed swordsman by becoming as ambidextrous as possible. He practiced with his sword in either hand and got used to parrying when he would have blocked.

Once the sun set completely, he bowed to the warrior and thanked him for his time. It was still very awkward to fight someone of similar skill to him with an opposite handedness, but he would learn.

Night 1.

Aberham sharpened his sword and wrapped his wounds in bandages. Since he had so little preparation to do since he knew what exercises he could do. He added his own special push ups to to mix. He did not want to weigh himself down too much and he did not want this to be easy. So he set his goal at two hundred and fifty push ups and lit some coals underneath it. Once the flames died down until the black rocks were merely red hot.

He took off every piece of armor excluding his helm and his pants. He put both fists on the ground and touched his nose on the ground easily. But then he felt a hot coal on his stomach and he pushed himself up again. He tapped his nose on the ground once more, while sucking in his stomach as far as it would go. He did not have much fat at all and having muscle burn hurt much more than loose skin.

The push-ups were easy. It was pacing himself not to not run out of steam or get third degree burns that made it difficult. He made it to almost fifty before his arms waivered and his stomach burned to much. He cried out and tossed himself to the side. He continued to do this exercise until the coals cooled down, but he never even approached one hundred without stopping. He did the rest of his exercises, washed off much more filth and grime off his body and went to sleep.

Day 2

Aberhams cold bath was long awaited. It felt slightly warmer than yesterday and the light burns on his stomach felt like they didn't exist while he was in the pool. Even after increased to become plea ent he managed to stay in today until the sun came up.

His run seemed easier, he cleared his mind and managed to make it a bit fret her back. But his stamina gave out, and by the time he got back to the village he was in a slog and was dieing for some breakfast. He ate bread like it was going out of style. Then right after ordered some Moglins to take the blades off their spears and follow him away from camp.

Fighting so many opponents was once again very difficult for Aberham. He made it almost four minutes before he caught a stick to the jaw and got beaten onto the ground. They repeated this again and again until Aberham was sure he had more bruises than normal skin. But eventually the Moglins tired out before he did. He ordered them to re blade their weaponry and follow him back into town.

A few soldiers of Ganon gathered around to see the multi man Melee with Aberham pitted against the Moglins. He left on his steel gloves this time, he needed to be used to fighting with them. He figured out why he did so poorly last time, he went against what fighting skills they taught him as a knight. His goal when fighting unarmed was to stun his opponent long enough to retrieve his weapon and finish them like that. He was not a fighter, but the gloves and a bit of their enchantment helped him against the onslaught of unarmed muscular Moglins.

He did dodge rolls, painfully with his bruises. He jumped over attacks, he threw monsters into other monsters and fought with great gusto. He told some members of the crowd jokingly that they had better take some notes and he made it a round farther than last time. Eventually though, he caught a punch to the stomach right on a pre existing injury then fists cracked on his head until he fell out. Fighters of all kinds laughed at him. "I'll be sure to take notes on how to get my ass kicked!" One of them said. After making him do one hundred push-ups as punishment he moved onto the final daytime exercise.

He was able to learn a lot more with his gerudo opponent today. His left hand wielded his sword much better than yesterday. It almost felt relaxing to practice fighting at about three quarters speed. He was training like a spartan. He bowed to his opponent as the sun set and went about his nightly exercises.

Night 2

Aberham could feel his wounds all over his body. He finished his exersises early tonight and gathered every scented candle that had been pillaged from the village. He lit them all in one room and closed the windows to keep the scent in. He put steaming hot towels on his shoulders and meditated his pain away. He got an early rest. Tommorow, he thought. Tomorrow he would really start training.

Day 3

Aberham started his day feeling strong! He hopped in an ice cold bath and it did not bother him at all! He got out as run sun rose and raced his horse back to camp. He did not stop running until he finished his jog in full armor, taking longer and longer strides with their strength enhancements. He arrived at breakfast early, ate some eggs and carbo loaded. He took eight Moglins away as soon as they had finished their own food and took them up into the hills to train with staves.

He was able to fend them off for over half of his goal of ten minutes, when he did take a hint that sent him to the ground he laughed heartily and took one of their hands to help him stand back up. His defensive skills were increasing dramatically. When he moved into unarmed practice his fists were much faster than those of his opponents who were still recovering like wimps from their last beatings. He made it a hard earned round father. He threw his foes off like a mighty Goron.

His practice with the Iron knuckle was also much more thrilling. They went at it full speed with dulled blades. He matched him blow for blow and mastered blocking with his shield on his right arm and rapidly drawing and switching to his lance. Such a great day could only mean good things for his training!

Night 4

"Fifty.... Fifty one.... Fifty two..." Aberham said as he did bench presses. He put on his armor as a burden for his pull ups and was able to rapidly touch his chin onto the steel bar. His grip was also getti stronger, much like his calloused hands. His speed had improved and he fell to the ground after sixty. Then hopped up to do some more!

Day five.

Aberhams staff danced around the battlefield for ten solid minutes. Exploiting errors in his opponents stances and slamming into the bonniest parts of Moglins physiology. After ten minutes ticked away on the sundial he had dragged out here they all dropped their weapons and admitted him as their better.

He did similarly in the unarmed combat section, his reaction time and technique were both improving considerably. He made it all the way to the last round, exploiting the poor physique and training of the creatures before he succumbed to their numbers and was thrown off his feet into a crowd that had gathered to watch him fight.

Night 6

Aberham was doing his push ups over even more fiery coals, he had found the perfect rhythm. "Two ninety nine, three hundred, three hundred and one!" He overshot his goal so much that when he finally stopped because he was running out of time he jumped up, did a little dance with his incredibly tired arms hanging to his side then he peed on the coals to put them out.

Day 7

Aberham was on fire. He was doing everything short of the bath in full armor today. Any opponent who came before him while he wielded a staff was brutally beaten back for twenty minutes before everyone refused to go at him again. He wiped the sweat off of his brow, for he had beaten the eight Moblins. In the fist fighting section he was glad for his armor. No one could land a hit capable of putting him down and he would heft Moglins over his head like a master with his strength and would throw them many feet out of the ring. He decimated the challenge he had set for himself.

His running was also easier, he found the perfect strides and was able to make it a fifth of the way around the entire beach and back without slowing down. He ate fistfuls of fruit and fresh vegetables for breakfast and lunch and after he had bested the Gerudo knight in every sword style he tried he caught a huge fish and ate its delicious flesh.

He surpassed his goals on every exercise he did that knight. In celebration he took one of the training dummy's that had been made from scarecrows. Put a green cap and shirt on it. Then cut it in half and burned what was left over.

Please note that some information contained on this site may not be considered canon in the official lore of the game, but is staff created content that may not be used on any other sites without permission.

All graphics, codes, characters, and topics made on this site belong to their rightful owners.

Any use of the content on LOZSOP on any other site without permission will result in serious consequences, which may include site deletion.